Completed From One Who Knows (Edreina)

[Razkar]

30th Day of Fall
South Kabrin Road, ten days from Zeltiva
18th Bell

It still hurt, but every day, the pain was a little less, and her aim was a little more sure. Her grip was more firm, and she was able to let fly more arrows... but the weakness... the hated weakness of her flesh set her teeth on edge every night.

Moretta had been helpless before, and she would not allow that to happen again.

Seeing her calmly, methodically firing arrows down range, however, Razkar would not have thought her so wounded. Was that the same woman whose left arm was a mass of bloody, almost pulped flesh but eighteen days before? Who'd had to hold the bridle of her steed between her gnashing teeth so her right could hold a sword?

The Myrian mercenary shook his head at the sight of her pulling a fresh arrow, notching it... drawing the bow, clutched in her right hand... and controlling the tremble her weakened but healing arm produced... inhaling... aiming...

The arrow shot from her bow and into the target in less time than it took for Razkar to inhale. Not a bullseye, but impressive considering she was firing from over a hundred feet away. The Myrian looked on in awe, squinting to see the target no larger than a man's torso, pierced clean through... but the Drykas just shook her head, beating herself up and ripping a fresh arrow from her quiver-

"Not happy with progress?"

Short, dark hair whirled around grey eyes sharp as flint chips, fixing him in a stare that had sent men cowering before her in the past. Razkar just blinked at her, smile still in place. Ah, she had a fine glare to her, and no mistake, but he had been bred among female who'd raised such a visage to an artform.

"What's it to you?"

"For one," Razkar said, talking even as the half-Drykas continued to notch and aim her next shot, "Want to know if one of my best archers is still useful."

"I can use a sword, too, thank you."

"Not as good as bow."

TWANG!

Maybe six inches below where the heart would be on the target. Razkar shook his head again in appreciative awe; a hundred feet, so small he target was like a bottle top... and even in her weakened condition, Moretta could send an arrow ripping into the guts of an enemy at that range.

Dark muttering in Pavi. As usual, she was not as impressed.

"That the only reason?"

"Want someone to practice with." Her hands paused in the act of drawing her bow, eyes hardening with cold, careful calculation. Razkar held up the shortbow in his hand. "If you have a Drykas nearby, and they can teach. why not use?"

"So that's what I am?" The bow and the notched arrow lowered, the scout giving him her full attention for the first time. "Something to be used?"

Razkar felt a whisper of something that had nothing to do with archery, but he was a naive male, in a select few areas, so he did not make out the words. Instead he merely put up a hand, shrugging lightly.

"I am you commander. Could order you to. But do not want to order around a female. It is... improper."

A shapely eyebrow quirked strikingly on her tanned forehead, a tiny smile going with it. "A Myrian and a gentleman. We don't often see you that way."

"I understand. We do not think you are much, either."

She blinked at his unabashed candor and Razkar felt some kind of wall breaking down a little at his approach. He was right, after all; he could just order her to help him with his archery. But she was a sellsword: she could simply ride away, if she wanted, or just teach him badly (which is the kind of female she struck him as). No, he wanted the genuine lesson, so-

"I've got nothing else to do. I could always take on an apprentice." A smile that was not quite a smile alighted her face and Moretta made a show looking over both Razkar's shoulders, scanning the tents and covered wagons strewn about. "Speaking of which, where's your little girl?"

Ice and iron and a rasping, patient aggression were in Razkar's voice in a moment, head tilted down a touch to get his point across even further.

"Her name is Edreina, and she is my apprentice, not my 'little girl'. And she has chores to attend to. My own are complete, so... want to learn with the bow."

"I understand." She nodded at the iron hanging from his belt. "You seem to be the best with those, after all."

"There is no best; only better."

"Learn that back home?"

"Yes."

A brief, unexpected silence. Then Moretta smiled at him, a touch softer than before, grey eyes twinkling like stars through the clouds. She jerked her head at the distant target and Razkar almost winced. Goddess, he could barely even see it...

"We'll start with your stance."

[Edreina]

Chores. On the Anchorage, they had been swabbing decks, scraping barnacles, helping patch a ship's hull. Here, chores meant something entirely different.

After the camp had settled for the evening, Edreina had been charged with making sure that their perimeter was secure, meaning that each sentry was where they were supposed to be, when they were supposed to be there. So, with her blue cloak about her shoulders, the redhead commenced her rounds. Jorven moved at a quick walk, ears swiveling curiously as he took in the sights and sounds of camp settling for the night, knowing that soon he would be free of his loathsome tack and able to graze freely for the night. Occasionally, he would return the call of a horse that they were passing, tail flicking whimsically.

She made it about halfway around the camp before trouble arose. People were more at ease than they had been for a majority of the journey so far. Maps said they were about ten-days-ride away from Zeltiva, from their destination; people were starting to relax; some were getting lazy. Prime example? The sellsword was leaning against a wagon, drinking from a dark-glass bottle. This was not what he was supposed to be doing. Not even nearly. His laziness, his lack of foresight - Edreina felt her heart warm with annoyance - was putting them all in danger.

The Svefra clicked her tongue, spurring Jorven into a trot so that she could get over to the man before he had the chance to hide the bottle. Upon pulling up before him, Edreina halted her gelding and slid from his back. The man's eyes were on her, defensive; they flicked from one side to the other, and then an oddly smug look flashed over them. He's realized that Razkar is not with you... something whispered in Edreina's ear, pursing her lips. "S'that wine?" she asked, nodding at the bottle in his hands.

The sloppy smile of one already intoxicated flickered over his lips the instant before he brought the bottle up to it, Adam's-apple bobbing merrily as more of the fruity liquid slithered down his throat. It was a challenge to her authority, so the redhead squared her shoulders, crossing her arms just beneath her breasts. A chime passed and the man did not reply, rolling the bottle between his hands as he eyed her, unblinking. Edreina felt her annoyance growing. Was the mere threat of Razkar not enough for these sellswords, anymore? You're among your ranks, but you've not proven yourself, her logic whispered, you've known a moment to be coming like this for some time now. The woman's natural urge was to go find Razkar or Albrecht, but she could no longer hide behind their skirts. This was the first time that someone had dared defy her so directly. But, if she turned her back now and went running to Razkar, it would not be the last. Her heart rate accelerated at the realization, sending a burst of adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Is. That. Wine?" she repeated, slow and deliberate.

A hard look flashed over his face as the man stood, bottle's neck held firmly in one hand. "Might be. Might not be. Tis none of your business, apprentice," he sneered, taking another long draw from the bottle. A few passersby, sellswords and wagon-drivers alike had paused, gawking at the redhead as she attempted to prove some level of authority.

The urge to panic surged through Edreina before being replaced by a gentle nudge from the bones about her neck. Instinct. This male was attempting to place himself higher in the pecking order than her, and that simply would not do. Once you slipped, there was no stopping your fall toward the bottom. You need to assert yourself before you become a doormat...

A mischievous smile flickered across Edreina's lips before being squashed. She had done this to Surai once, but would this fellow be dumb enough to fall for it too? "Something funny?" He asked, causing the Svefra's lips to perk up again as she smiled at him. For a tick, he was stunned by the reaction.

"Too bad it's none of my business," she said, flashing a look over her shoulder, before turning again, stage-whispering, "I was going to ask you to share..."

If looks were mizas, this fellow's would have been golden. He looked over Edreina's shoulder before taking a step forward, eyes narrowed critically. "Really? Wouldn't your master be a bit miffed if he caught you drinking?"

"He's not here," she supplied readily, shrugging with a smile.

"Hm..." Reluctantly, the bottle entered Edreina's hands.

Apparently, this bloke was just as stupid as Surai.

With blue eyes on his, the Svefra upended the bottle, letting its contents pour out onto the grass, coating it with a layer of deep purple.

"You stupid petching-" The man lunged at her, fists raised.

Then, he sank to the dirt without even a grunt as his body went limp, knocked unconscious as Edreina wielded the empty bottle like a club, slamming it into the side of his head. By her Myrian-taught-reasoning, a drunk did them no good and ought be dealt with swiftly, before the entire caravan was put in danger.

Silence surrounded Edreina as the gawkers froze, rooted in place by the willowy woman's sudden fierceness. But, she was not done. He had been the example. Now, she had to make sure that the lesson stuck. "Since you've nothing better to do," her tone was clipped, lacking the melody it so naturally held. There was the gentle tremble of adrenaline in her voice, but any weakening affect it might have had was nulled by her eyes. Always miniature Suvans, here eyes were a tempest at that moment, threatening to tear asunder any that defied her. "You can take him to a tent," a slim finger was leveled at someone who managed to remember the crate they were carrying, "And you can take his shift on the watch." Her arm swung about into the direction of another gawker, a sellsword she had seen using a battle-ax relatively well.

Without waiting, she dropped the bottle and strode back over to Jorven, pulling herself into the saddle with relative ease despite how her body seemed to be humming with energy. When her eyes went to the scene once more, she saw someone else helping the man she had assigned to removing the drunk's unconscious body. There was obvious annoyance in his features, but the ax-man stepped forward to take his fallen comrade's post. He did not speak up. No one spoke up, in fact, to the fierce woman mounted before them...

It was all a ruse, of course, but her annoyance with even having to prove herself as a worthy apprentice of Razkar was wearing on her nerves. Every time she turned around, someone was eyeing her, mentally asking "Why her?" It was a question that had repeated in Edreina's own thoughts countless times. But, to see it in someone else's eyes... It would break a woman were she not strong enough to prove herself instead of falling to it.

Once things were in order once again, Edreina continued her chores, mind abuzz. Who should she make aware of this event. Albrecht? No... the problem had been with a sellsword, putting the problem under Razkar's jurisdiction. Would he approve of her methods or would she get his trademarked eye-roll? Shyke, had she o-... No, she had not over reacted. A drunk watchman was worse than no watchman. So, Edreina finished circling the camp, reaching the point at which she had started. From there, she turned Jorven and rode at a ambling walk back towards where Razkar had said they would be camping for the night.

And then, after being awoken by her need of them earlier, the bones around her neck utterly snarled at the sight before her.

Razkar was, predictably, practicing with a weapon. What set Edreina off was the way in which he was practicing... Moretta, Miss Bitchy-and-Boobless herself, had her hands on Razkar's taut stomach as he held a bowstring tight, arrow pulled back as he sighted. Before her very eyes, the Drykas slid her hands over Edreina's Myrian's stomach, stopping with her hands on his hips. The woman knelt, adjusting his stance with her hands. As she drew closer, the Svefra had to watch from her saddle as the bitch had the gall to grin up at her Razkar. HER Razkar. No.

Everything in Edreina wanted to slam her heels into Jorvens sides so that she could vault from the galloping beast, grab the woman by her short, nearly black hair, and claw out her-

No... This is not you, Edreina... It's the Balicani talking. Think for a tick... Reacting to this will ruin your hard-earned ruse. Besides. I doubt that he is reacting positively to her-

Unless he is... Her fire quailed at the consideration. Old insecurities rose to the surface and Edreina had to struggle to keep from drowning beneath them. After a tick, she had a touch more composure. He was her lover, after all. Surely he would not ditch a tuna for a minnow.

The pseudo-confident thought brought a small smile to Edreina's face as she closed the distance between the training pair and pulled up on the reins so that she stopped a bit behind Razkar. She was silent, at first, hands clenching and loosening on the reins - the only sign of her annoyance - as she waited for Razkar to fire his shot. Once the bowstring flew forward with its typical twang she spoke up, shocking both: "Razkar..."

Boobless looked up, flushing ever so slightly for a fraction of a tick as something akin to... guilt?... flashed across her features before being replaced by its typical haughty, stony visage. As if not even noticing the Drykas, Edreina continued, blue eyes locked on Razkar. "There was a problem with one of the mercs, but I handled it." In her current mood, she had no interest in offering further explanation. A primal energy rippled between the lovers as Edreina dismounted, face obscured by Jorven's bulk for a pair of ticks as she fumbled with the girth-strap. Was that disappointment he saw in those familiar blue eyes? Or... was he simply seeing things...?

With the girth undone, Edreina removed the saddle and pad, resting them on her shoulder as she led the silvery gelding over to a picket. The saddle was placed atop a rock and, from the saddlebags, Edreina pulled her grooming kit and the horse's halter. Doing her best to keep her eyes from the painfully intimate scene of Boobless teaching Razkar the finer points of a bow, Edreina busied herself with currying her horse.

The Svefra refused to realize how much seeing Razkar with a more suitable female pained her heart...

[Razkar]

"Widen your stance a little... no, with your legs... yes, like that... and balance your weight evenly, don't lean forwards..."

Razkar felt a strong, callused hand around his stomach and his abdominal muscles tightened out of instinct. The hand stilled, just for a moment... as if in appreciation... but, for all his martial prowess, Razkar didn't notice that in more than one dimension, and that dimension was-

"Something is wrong?"

Moretaa blinked, nearly hesitated, then shook her head, crown of straight blond hair swinging briskly. "No, not at all, just... better stance. Much better. Now, your feet... Zulrav and Semele save you, look-"

"F-Female?!"

Before he knew it Razkar's hand were trapped, useless by the fact he was holding a shortbow with arrow notched at shoulder height, head snapping down, eyes wide as she was-

"What are you-"

"Your feet... they're off." The half-Drykas frowned as she nearly got between his legs, pride and joy clothed in naught but a loincloth, straightening his left foot so it pointed towards the distant target and bending his left knee a touch. "Don't be so straight in your posture, too. Too tight and you'll have all that... tension with nowhere to go."

Choirs to jaded males throughout the multiverse rolled their eyes and roared advice and jeers but to Razkar? There was nothing but the sound of good advice and a female uncomfortably close to his... affairs. He allowed her to adjust him as needed and...

"Better?"

A flash of white teeth from below. "Much. Now..." She stood back up and slid behind him again, moving quicker and surer on her own feet than other Drykas he had seen. The horse lords were oddly bandy-legged without four hooves beneath them, but this one... smooth and quick as liquid silver. "... when you pull... use your back muscles... not just your arm and shoulder. In battle, you may be firing a whole quiver's worth of shots. Just using your shoulders and arms means you'll exhaust your arms and by the time you're six shots in, your arms will be a shaky mess."

"My arms might be stronger than you think."

Once again, strong fingers curled around his muscles, this time on his biceps as he pulled back slowly... and her breath was light as a spring breeze on his ears.

"I see that. But you're still mortal. Use your back, yes?"

"Yes."

"Fine... now... pull... breath steady... take-"

"-a breath," Razkar whispered back, eyes fixed at that impossibly far target. Goddess, was he really meant to hit that? He knew the shortbow could smack into targets hundreds of feet away, but he was far from the master of yew and string that she was. "... hold it... and..."

The arrow wavered almost imperceptibly over the target. Razkar held a breath... the arrow stopped for a blink... and he straightened his fingers-

-arrow freed in a blink-

-rocketing horizontally, hardly any drop at that range-

-and the target spun around in circles, the extreme left of it just winged, arrow sending it twirling, twirling like a childs toy. There was a soft chuckle from his left and he glanced, seeing a face he'd never noticed was so... pleasant. In a way. When she smiled it was... certainly worthy of note.

"Not bad. Room for improvement, certainly, but your basic form is-"

"Razkar..."

Razkar's heart leaped into his mouth and he whirled, almost headbutting the half-Drykas as she staggered back as well, both of them red-faced and looking to all the world like they were caught in the midst of something far less innocent that archery practice. Edreina stood there, cool and calm, almost at attention.

For a tick, maybe less, Razkar was transported back to his clan, his village, his jungle and the Training Yards, quavering before the baleful glare of females who could seemingly stare into his soul and lay bare all his sins. Then he blinked and the world was at it was... but it was strange.

Sin? Wrongdoing? Why did that come into his mind?

"There was a problem with one of the mercs, but I handled it."

Razkar made a note to query her on the particulars later, but he had a feeling he wouldn't need to. Either campfire whispers would reach his ears or she would tell him herself. Either way, his quick glance up and down her tight body told him no damage had been done, and since there was no lynch mob coming after her, there were no bodies littering the encampment.

The Myrian nodded sharply, face stiff as if he'd run into a strong wind. He was master once more when she was there and others were, too. An unfortunate necessity, but a necessity nonetheless. But before he could ask anything else, she had whirled away, working on her horse and that alone made Razkar's lips curl slightly.

A season ago she was afraid Mrrko would eat her, body and soul both. Now she has her own steed, and tends to it like a Drykas. How things change...

Mumbling next to him. Low, muttered as if in the negative, a language he didn't follow but had heard from the other horse lords among the sellswords. A black, suspicious gaze swung to Moretta, finding her staring at Edreina's back.

"What did you say?"

A long enough pause for him to know she was lying, then: "She should use a better brush. The bristles on that one? Frayed. Not good."

Razkar stared at her. She returned it. For a few ticks... then a few more... then the inevitable happened, and she looked away. Back in the jungle such affront would have cost Razkar in bruises and welts, but here? He was the savage, and staring too long into his abyss was a dangerous thing.

"We will continue."

They did, as the camp life toiled and spun around them, as Syna began a slow dive to the peaks, as her light dimmed and the first squeaking bats swooped and fluttered clumsily from the trees. Three more times Razkar fired, and with marginal improvement each time.

The second was the same as the first... just on the opposite side of the target. Moretta sighed and shook her head, for some reason keeping her arms folded now, instead of roving over him.

"You pull when you let go off the arrow. Keep your hand still. Just snap your fingers straight."

The Myrian nodded and did as he was told, planting his feet, straightening... no, straightening one leg, then bending his left a little... feeling his weight shift and even out. Squinted down a fresh arrow... inhale... hold... straighten-

Nothing moved on the Myrian's body save for his flicking fingers, and that time, the arrow hit the target...

Both of them winced. Goddess... he would not have liked to be that male...

"Well, if you're looking to unman every warrior you fight, congratulations," Moretta said with a hint of a smirk, then jutted her pointed chin to his face. "But you're not pulling hard enough on the bow-"

"You said not to pull!"

"I mean when you draw!" The halfbreed demonstrated again, pulling her "arrow" back farther than Razkar had, almost to her ear. "The benefit of the short bow is the power it gives for such size. But that power has to have a... genesis? You know this word?"

"Yes."

"So, you must give the string that power first, so the arrow may inherit it. Draw the arrow back all the way to the jawline... then release."

Razkar absorbed this new information, feeling the strain in his shoulder... and realized the Drykas was right. Too much tension there, enough to sap an archer's strength too quickly in the midst of battle. He flexed his back muscles, hearing the Drykas stiffen, shuffle for some reason... pulled the bow all the way back...

A hundred feet. A hundred paces that shrunk hunks of wood to splinters in the distant eye, but reached, grabbed, skewered and pierced within a broken tick-

Draw. Aim. Inhale. Straighten.

The Mryian grinned as the twang from the bowstring echoed around him, seeing the target swing backwards, struck in the middle-

"Shyke!"

-and then cursed as the string rebounded and slashed a divot in his flesh.

"Ah, bloody amateurs..."

Razkar scowled but didn't reprimand the female. She had a point, after all. A strip of raw, bloody flesh was throbbing on the underside of his arm. What a fine mess, and then Moretta was holding his arm upward roughly, to the waning light, frowning at it.

"Now bad... shallow... just needs some ointment and bandages."

She pressed the wound-

-and Jorven whinnied loudly, as if struck or in pain, causing them both to snap around in confusion-

-just in time to see Edreina's hair swinging back into position, facing the horse, definitely not spying on the "archery practice". Razkar frowned, confused as to her subterfuge... so lost in the thought he didn't see the sly smile on Moretta's face.

"So... how long have you and your apprentice been together?"

The Myrian now directed his frown at his teacher, both of them crouched down, ointment rubbed painfully into his wound from his healer's kit. But he swallowed it, or his mind did, focusing an unblinking star on the female.

"She had been under my instruction," he said carefully, making the distinction very clear, "for the last two seasons. She is... very promising."

"What made her take up with a savage?"

Now Razkar knew he was being baited, but refused to rise to it, letting the pain numb his mind as it did his body... shrugging slightly as the stinking substance was smeared over the bloody strip and the bandage was unfurled.

"I was looking for an apprentice. Someone I could teach. She caught my eye, when I was on the boat from Riverfall. A brave girl. Clever. Fast to learn. She is protected by me, learns from me, until she does not need to be protected."

"And what do you get from it?"

A definite tone, now. He could hear the smirk behind her words, the feeling that she was toying with him growing stronger, sharper. Edreina turned to see him leaning closer to her... but she could not see his face, the stiff and heavy-browed glare he fixed her with...

"Cleaning. Cooking. Errands to be run. What the petch did you think, hmm?"

... all she saw was him leaning closer... and Moretta's grey eyes flickered for a moment, a tiny, awful moment, and locked onto hers with something like triumph in them. Smug, sadistic triumph.

Razkar never found out what Moretta's next question was.

[Edreina]

By nature, Svefra had little to no concept of ownership. Someone needed your ship more than you? No problem! I can always find a new one. Someone needed to use your netting? Perfectly fine! Your mate felt the pull of another's tide? Understandable.

But, as much as Edreina attempted to keep herself from sneaking peaks at Razkar as she cared for Jorven, currying him furiously so that the sweat would not make his body tense and the fluffed fur would help him to cool off, she felt a fire growing in her chest. Each time her blue eyes fell upon the duo for even a tick, Edreina was struck by just how bold Boobless appeared to be while examining her Myrian. The way she put her hands on Razkar made the Svefra's stomach turn as sea-sickness never had; innuendos were made as were promises. It did not look to her as if Razkar was receptive to the brunette's advances - Edreina had seen receptive. But, that did not mean that it did not exist...

After all. This woman was everything that Edreina was not. Perhaps, because of that, Razkar would react to her appeal in a different way, one entirely unfamiliar to the red-haired Svefra. That is really what started to get to her... The fact that she may be oblivious to his feelings for the halfbreed. After brushing Jorven's fur until it gleamed liquid silver in the fading light... perhaps too much... Was that a bald-spot? No... That had always been there.

With quaking hands, Edreina started to clean out her horse's hooves, pick creating a rhythmic scritch-scritch as she worked. The sound was almost soothing, lulling her into a near-trance as she diligently removed small stones and clods of dirt-

Razkar's outburst had her looking up. To her pleasure, Boobless had not managed to mount her lover. To her displeasure, Razkar had managed to hurt himself. She sighed mentally, smiling despite herself. First this hoof, and then I'll go help him... It is one of my duties as his apprentice after all. Memories of how they had helped to patch one another up after an Afternoon in the Fighter's Pit and then after their battle against the Balicani came flooding back, soothing her heart. It was the one time that she was able to be tender with her beloved master-

AND PETCHING BOOBLESS WAS THERE TO STEAL THAT FROM HER, TOO!

Unthinking, Edreina's hand moved just a bit too much and she caught Jorven's frog with her pick, causing him to whicker in discomfort, tossing her head. Two pairs of eyes swiveled to investigate, only to see Edreina hiding behind her bangs, tending to her horse's hooves. What they would not see was the thin, pale line as her lips pressed tightly together, damming up the flow of anger that threatened to escape. They would also not see the way that her eyes were utterly alive with a territorial fire that only an animal would understand.

And that animal was a Balicani.

For several ticks, woman and beast warred mentally for control. It wanted to send her flying at the usurper, to strip away her scales and clip her wings, making her an utterly unfit mate. That same part wanted to drag Razkar to the nearest tent and leave its marks upon his skin, claiming its territory, warning away the dark-haired, keen-eyed - Boobless! - threat. However, the human knew that doing so would ruin their hard earned - but petching annoying! - ruse. Their safety was worth more than whatever atrocities Boobless would attempt to lure the Myrian into committing.

Before either side could win, Jorven abruptly reared up, ripping his hoof from Edreina's hands and screaming at the top of his lungs as he came back down where Edreina had been before she rolled out of her way. Before her eyes, her calm and imperturbable beast was transformed into a whirling mass of lashing hooves, white eyes, and bared teeth. Had the Balicani somehow escaped her necklace and come to possess the horse?

For nearly a chime, the horse whirled in place, prancing and bucking and lashing out before the wide blue eyes of the Svefra. And then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the incident was over. Jorven was breathing hard, but he was still save for his head as he slowly lowered it to the grass, sniffing at... something?

Red head cocked to the side, Edreina rose, crouching slightly so that the horse would not see her as a threat. Cautiously, approaching Jorven as if he were an injured seal, Edreina whispered comforts in her native tongue as she approached.

To her obvious surprise, a snakes bloody, mangled corpse lay in the grass only a pace away from where Edreina had been. Realizing what he had done, Edreina's face split in a wide grin and she walked over to slide her arms around the mellow gelding's throat, pressing her cheek against his neck. At least she still had someone on her side... Her lips found the horse's soft cheek and her fingers scratched along his jaw just so.

After a tick of silence, the Svefra remembered what had been upsetting her before Jorven's timely intervention. Turning to the duo, her eyes were cool as she assessed an obviously shaken half-Drykas. Ha. Half Drykas, half sea-gull-shyke, obviously. "Sorry... Did not mean to disturb. Please. Do carry on." Without another word, the Svefra nudged the torn length of sinew away and resumed her grooming. Hopefully, they would not see how badly her hands were shaking.

[Razkar]

Razkar whirled as Jorven's scream tore through the silence preceding Moretta's next question. So vicious and violent was it that his hands snapped immediately to his weapons, pain in his arm forgotten as he saw half-a-ton of enraged, terrified horse meat bucking high into the air.

"Goddess..."

Jorven was usually quite a placid, easy-going creature. Perhaps moreso than Mrrko, which was certainly saying something. But seeing him in that moment, flailing and stamping, lips quivering and eyes rolling around at the sides of his head, Razkar would scarce believe it was the same animal.

Edreina was his first concern. His body jerked forward in a blur but no sooner had his knees bent and shoulder tensed to spring-

-she held up a hand. Silent, but firm. Not even wavering...

Razkar understood. This was her fight, her problem, and her responsibility. The raging animal seemed oddly muted to him in that moment... then he nodded... and stepped back. Moretta clutched his arm, but when he turned, she was already pointing down.

"Should have petching guessed..."

"Sorry... Did not mean to disturb. Please. Do carry on."

Something that might have once resembled a snake was revealed under the flattened grass and churned earth... though now it resembled a tangled pile of meat and scales with two fangs (one of which was about a foot away from the rest of it). The Myrian chuckled and walked over, oblivious to Moretta's tightening of her jaw as he did so. He bent close as Edreina stroked her gelding, picking up the mangled mess...

"Might want to save this. Snake is good to eat."

The savage grinned and the Svefra got the inkling he was not talking about grass vipers. But before another word could be spoken by her, the Myrian grinned again, some wonderful idea popping into his mind... and he gestured to the haughty half-Drykas.

"You should practice, too, apprentice. You need to know how to use bow." He gestured to his arm, lips curled a little in distaste. "Might have to stop my training for a little. So... you can take over."

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea."

Razkar's head snapped around, braided hair flashing in the waning sun, still having a dark sheen to it even at that late bell. Eyes the same color narrowed at Moretta's words, but she just glared back, challenging him with her silence.

"She is my apprentice."

"Then you teach her."

"Want me to make it an order?"

"Would you?"

"We have been over that before. No. But I will." A bronzed hand reached out to clasp Edreina's shoulder, a territorial gesture as much as affectionate. "You teach master, so know you can teach apprentice."

Moretta's grey eyes flickered from one to the other and Razkar couldn't understand what her issue with the arrangement was. Edreina was a fast learner, a quick study... so where was the problem? What wasn't he seeing?

Certainly not the dark look on the Svefra's face. That was for sure.

"Fine." He all-but-growled, rifling around in his purse without looking away. "You say thing is different? Then make stakes different."

Gold blossomed in the evening air, a handful of spinning yellow discs that Moretta's hand caught adroitly. Her eyes snapped down to do a quick count... then slid back up to master and apprentice...

"Agreed," she said as she pocketed the coins, tiny smile that was curiously... predatory twisting her lips, "For what you gave me. But she has to stay to my pace. I'm not teaching idiots."

A rush of breath from his side, and he felt Edreina stiffen next to him. He turned and fixed her blue eyes with his best Instructor Stare, steady and unblinking, a stone wall that barred all rebellion. His voice was low, almost a whisper... and not Common.

"Listen." The word was as graceful and fluid as the next were guttural and aggressive. "She good."

So, it was settled, or so the simple male mind assumed it was. Whom better to learnf rom that one who knows, after all? And now gold had been exchanged - the life blood of these barbarian peoples, for it certainly wasn't the hot wetness in their veins, as far as Razkar could tell - Edreina would get a good lesson.

Listen harder. You might hear that despairing choir rise to new heights of disbelief...

"Besides," the half-Drykas said with that same smile as Edreina started over, accompanied by a tone Razkar didn't quite recognize, "Anything to help the boss, of course..."

ReceiptArchery Training For Edreina: -10GM

[Edreina]

"You should practice, too, apprentice. You need to know how to use bow."

Just as Edreina was prepared to launch into a list of all the things she could be doing, and would rather be doing - coating her hair in horse dung being chief among them - Boobless herself intervened. A look flashed between the women and in that cold, primal tick, they had an understanding, and agreement of sorts. Moretta had a dislike for Edreina just as the Svefra loathed the Drykas with every drop of water in her Father's Sea. Each time the short-haired woman looked at Razkar and then back, the woman's face would be a mite darker, like a tempest from far off shore slowly approaching with murderous winds and vicious rains. Never before had Edreina so liberally applied the word hate with a singular creature.

"Agreed... For what you gave me. But she has to stay to my pace. I'm not teaching idiots."

But, Edreina hated Moretta, Miss Boobless-and-Bitchy herself. Her hand tightened ever so slightly around the hoof pick, mentally playing through how best to use it against the Drykas; red hot and carefully applied to a certain Southern region sounded ever so nice at that moment. Would Razkar even be able to recognize the contempt in her blue eyes when her gaze reluctantly met his? It was so out of place... And yet it felt so right.

For a tick, Edreina's rebellious side came through as she held up her hand to Razkar, signalling that she cared little for what he had to say. Without moving her hand, the Svefra tossed the pick back towards the bag of horse-related-equipment and strode around the Myrian. Words usually so serene and playful lashed out in the rapid order of storm-driven waves, so quickly that Razkar would only recognize his name, "I promise you now, Razkar, that if this eel attempts foolishness even once, I will bring her to the ground and rip out her fingernails." Normally, Edreina would not be the sort to make such threats. But, the stress of the ruse, of her forced behavior around Razkar, and now the fact that she could not assert her claim were quickly becoming too much for the redhead to bear without some form of retaliation.

Moretta seemed vaguely amused by the Svefra as she made her way over, hands in tense fists, lips pressed into that same, angry line. Emotion had never been something that Edreina hid very well at all. At least she had the sense to respect her master's wishes as far as not taking the bow as it was handed to her and knocking the woman upside the head. Just to see her fall... To see the high and mighty creature brought down into the dirt... It would satisfy Edreina.

As she took the bow, Edreina became acutely aware of the face that not only was Boobless, well, lacking breasts, but also seemed to tower above her, giving her the chance to look her haughty nose, belittling the Svefra. Great. As if she really needed to be made aware of another one of her insecurities.

Despite their growing disdain for one another, Moretta was a professional being paid to accomplish a task. She knew from years of experience that if she did well, more pay would come her way. That did not, however, cause her to be even minutely gentle when instructing the Svefra.

First, Edreina was forced to take an archer's stance without an arrow, drawing back the string with her fingertips, pressing imaginary fletching against her cheek. The Drykas set about pushing and pulling and prodding at the little Svefra until her body was how she wanted, taking her time so that by then, Edreina was aware of a gentle quavering in her arm.

"You see this?" Moretta asked, pointing to Edreina's outside elbow, the one attached to the hand holding the bow itself. "This is why your master hurt himself. Can you tell me what the problem is?"

Tempted as she was to say that the problem with her elbow was that it was not currently resting heavily upon the woman's throat, Edreina swallowed her pride. If playing off of Edreina's ignorance in this subject was her game, she must feel threatened by the Svefra indeed. "No. I cannot tell you the problem." If I could, would we be in this situation? No? Thank you very much...

The archery master smiled, but there was no kindness there, no pride in her admitting a fault instead of attempting to hide it as she would have seen in Razkar's ebony eyes. "The problem is, your elbow is hyper-extended, bringing it into the arrow's path." The way she spoke, as if to a brain-addled child... It set Edreina's heart to burning and, thereby, her cheeks. "If you bend it ever so slightly," the woman paused, eyeing Edreina until the student complied, "the string will not be bothered. Now, release."

Keeping her fingers still, as her original master had instructed, Edreina released the string and had to bite back a cry of pain as the string struck another part of her anatomy. One that Boobless lacked.

"Oh but wait..." Her voice went quiet, intended, obviously, only for Edreina. "It looks like you're getting in the way."

A barely restrained growl of rage slithered from between Edreina's lips. But, before she could utter her grievances, Moretta took a step back and motioned for her to repeat the process.

And so, Edreina loosed a string without an arrow about five times before Moretta commented again, reminding her to make sure that her anchor remains the same each time. From the outside, it would look as if Edreina was frustrated with her lack of skill in this area. But, perhaps Razkar was a mite bit better than Edreina realized. Every time she loosed an imaginary arrow, the Svefra would glance at her master, pleading for an instant to be done, blatantly eye-shouting that if she was not removed from this situation soon, blood would be spilt.

Twenty-one imaginary arrows in, and still no sign of recognition from her lover.

[Razkar]

Razkar had honestly no clue what the problem was. Some grumbling part of him suspected he never would.

He sat with his arms crossed in the shade of a lonely tree, letting his dressing do its job and watching his "apprentice" work under Moretta's stern instruction. Really, he didn't understand this aggression between the two females. Why the concern? Why the friction?

The male frowned as yet another glance was thrown his way by the Svefra, eyes wide and seeming to jut momentarily out of her head, begging him for... was it help? Or just for her to go?

Slowly, making sure Moretta was not watching, Razkar shook his head. She had to learn, and not just her whip and the blade he'd gifted her. Killing from afar, from cover, from height and the safety of distance... that was a skill worth knowing. The Myrian knew many would consider such ability cowardice... and Goddess knew he hated the Zith for their ability to simply wing away from his ax and gladius, but, honestly...

If you have the power, why not use it? Victory is you alive and your enemy dead; who cares about how that happens?

She was improving, of that he was sure, but Moretta was still... skittish? No, that wasn't the word for the half-Drykas. Razkar had seem her cleave through Yukmen with only one arm a handful of days ago, seen not a flicker of fear when he'd stared her down and chewed her out for her recklessness. No, this was... territorial?

Wait... could it be about... me?

Oh. Now he understood. Now the cobwebs had been pulled from his face and he saw the light. Goddess, he had he been so blind?

"Moretta's jealous that Edri's my apprentice..."

The male whispered the words to himself, then ran them through his logic a second time. Nope... everything checked out. Moretta had been prickly as all the hells and their imps towards him a few days ago, but now she was almost amenable. The Myrian hauled himself to his feet and found that, finally, the dull pain in his arm was starting to fade.

Now just don't scratch it, remember?

That wasn't the only thing fading, either. Syna's was beginning his final plunge and this far in the Wilds, the fall would not be that long. Peaks and hills rose around them and already shadows loomed long around the encampment. Within a bell the target Moretta had set up would no longer be visible... and his apprentice had yet to fire a single arrow.

"Enough with no arrow!" He growled as he walked over, interrupting whatever silent spat the two were embroiled in. For an awful, drawn-out second Razkar tripped over his feet, nearly felled by the gaze of two females that had steel beyond their fine faces. "I... I want Edreina to use an arrow. Form is one thing, but this is too much, and we are losing light."

Against his expectations (and thus stoking his concern), Moretta smiled sweetly and drew an arrow, offering it to Edreina with over-elaborate care, every gesture reeking of smug sarcasm. Razkar was not immune to that, however, and did not like his student treated such.

"Stop. Wasting. Time." Now a glare was shot at him like a flaming arrow but the Myrian just grunted, arms folded, standing to one side again and waiting for Edreina to show what she'd learned. "Do not bother with that fierce stare, female. I was raised by women who shit things scarier than you."

The words were tossed at her, but it was Edreina Moretta looked at next, looking for some reation, growing under her breath and just tossing the arrow to the Sea-Walker-

-who caught it easily enough. Razkar waited until she turned to him briefly... then nodded firmly.

"I know you two do not get on. But she is smart, the half-breed. She knows arrow and bow. Use what she learn..." He gestured to the target with a smile for his student, his apprentice, his lover. "... and put arrow where you want it..."

Edreina looked at Moretta before the last word was even fully-spoken, and Razkar inwardly winced.

Yeah. Because the target is just where she wants that arrow...

[Edreina]

"Enough with no arrow!"

The Svefra turned to look at Razkar, eyes narrowed. Did he want her to make a fool of herself? Or was he just entirely obtuse about the fact that Edreina was one tick away from-

Well, from doing something very violent and very un-Edri.

"I... I want Edreina to use an arrow. Form is one thing, but this is too much, and we are losing light."

An arrow was produced and Moretta made a point of kneeling slightly so that the arrow was elevated ever so slightly. If this enraged Edreina, it managed to get a flicker of annoyance from her master. Just as she started to contemplate turning the arrow and stabbing her in the hand, Razkar was able to intervene once again.

"Stop. Wasting. Time. ... Do not bother with that fierce stare, female. I was raised by women who shit things scarier than you."

Sadly, Edreina missed whatever paltry glare Moretta had aimed at Razkar. She did not, luckily, miss the arrow nor the spiteful words in Pavi that were thrown haphazardly her way. Barely. Her hand snapped out and her fingers fumbled upon the arrow's shaft for an instant before being able to hold firm; the look on her face as she eyed Boobless from beneath her bangs said that she had not missed the intent of the words.

With eyes like ice, she turned to her master. Damn him for getting her into this situation. She understood the need to grow and learn, even his harsh methods... but this was just cruel. Why force her to be subservient to a woman so malicious and spiteful? There was the possibility that he knew not the reasoning behind their tension, but she doubted it. Hells. He had been able to smell a bandit's cigar through the fog. Edreina was sure that he could see the reason behind animosity between two women.

"I know you two do not get on. But she is smart, the half-breed. She knows arrow and bow. Use what she learn... and put arrow where you want it..."

Usually, the gentleness in his features that came with such a smile would have put Edreina's heart at ease, would have given her the courage to do anything. But, in that moment, it only made her saliva turn to acid. Her paltry skill, Edreina decided, was the only thing keeping her from shooting the arrow into the yawning maw that was Boobless's reproductive system.

The sooner she was able to be done with this, the better. Aligning herself sideways towards the target, Edreina took the stance she had been fawning over for a bell now. Her legs were carefully placed shoulder-length apart, shoulders back and stomach taut. Yes, so she could look the part of an archer. In the real world, that would mean nothing and Edreina knew it. That and the ruse were the only reasons that she allowed herself to be subjected to such torment.

Notching the arrow was easy enough, but getting it to stay where she wanted on the bow was a bit more difficult. For a pair of ticks, she fiddled with it until it rested neatly in the groove. Once that was done, she raised the bow, holding it ever so slightly diagonal in something she had heard an archer call "Instinctive Stance Shooting". Apparently, it was the only form of archery that allowed the archer to hold the bow at an angle instead of straight up and down or horizontal.

After properly holding the bow, Edreina started to pull back on the string, muscles tensing and straining and pulling in unfamiliar ways until the tip of her finger was at the corner of her mouth. One blue eye was obscured for a tick as she sighted down the shaft, aiming at the center of the barely-visible target.

Twang!

The string snapped forward as Edreina straightened her fingers, remaining as still as she could despite the way her body trembled as the muscles were released. Much to her displeasure and, by the sound of it, Boobless's satisfaction, the arrow thudded into the ground no more than halfway to the target and slightly to the right.

Face stoic, Edreina turned with the bow at her side to face her instructor, body rigid as she fought the urge to bare her teeth at the woman who was, once again, glancing over at Edreina's lover. Apparently, after Edreina's miserable attempt, the woman had glanced to Razkar to see if he was looking at her, as he should be. After all, the better should always receive the recognition. She showed no remorse at being caught, instead choosing to smile slightly at the Svefra. It was that wretched, knowing twist of her lips that held absolutely no trace of true mirth every woman instinctively knew and hated.

"Retrieve your arrow," Boobless commanded with a simple motion of her chin, lips remaining curved, "because I will not be wasting another on you."

Somehow, the top of Edreina's head remained miraculously in place despite the steam building up and escaping through her ears. Turning on her heel, the Svefra strode past Razkar, past Jorven, and over to where the fletched tail of an arrow protruded from the soft earth. She was oddly gentle when removing the arrow from the ground, having the sense to know that breaking the arrow would only end in more taunting. After that, the Drykas ordered her to wipe the arrow clean so that the filth of her failure would not cause the arrow to fly further off course. Ok, so she may have worded it a bit more analytically, but the meaning still dug into Edreina.

Doing her best to ignore the streak of dirt now standing apart from all of the other blotches of mud and filth and sweat - simply because it was put there on purpose - Edreina readied herself again, sighting down the arrow, aiming for the center of the target, holding her breath-

"Remember to aim a bit above your target..."

For some reason, the Drykas's useful tidbit only fanned Edreina's flame. Oh, she was just so much- Well... she was... But still! Tilting the bow a bit further upwards, Edreina adjusted and fired once again. This time, the arrow went further but veered further off to the left.

Without waiting to be commanded, Edreina started walking towards the arrow. But, of course, Boobless had to have her word in the matter, urging Edreina to move faster. Bitch just wants to watch me trip...

The pattern was repeated until the light grew so dim that Edreina felt as if she were firing towards the edge of the world. Finally, Moretta raised her hand just as the Svefra was going to fire once again. "That is enough for today. The light grows dim, your body's weakness is making your even more inaccurate, and it is my turn to join the Watch." The middle sentiment hurt Edreina because it was true. "Work on your strength, and then we will practice again." Gods, was Boobless as intent upon continuing her torture as Razkar? One look at her face confirmed it; the cocky tilt of her brow, the wicked curve of her mouth, they all spoke of malice.

Without a word, Edreina handed over the bow and arrow. Ever the fearless warrior, she turned and strode quickly towards their tent, feeling a lump grow in her throat. Behind her, the voice of the Drykas mingled with Razkar's typical roar, but the words were not made out as Edreina's ears continued to pound.

Crouching and pushing aside the tentflap, Edreina entered her temporary home and fell to her knees upon the bedroll that was hers. So many emotions waged within Edreina, tearing at her chest from within with such ferocity that she had to choke back a sob. Hands folded over her face quickly became knuckled tucked in between her teeth as she focused intently upon her breathing, upon keeping her eyes dry.

More than anything, Edreina hated to be made a fool of, to have her weaknesses pointed out. But, somehow, having Razkar there only made it worse. She tried so hard for him, tried to be someone that she was not. It split her down to the core, but it was better than the alternative: a life without Razkar. To be usurped so easily, so effortlessly, it shook her foundation and made her question her judgement all over again.

Who was she to be traveling with these sellswords? Who was she to pretend that she belonged in the life Razkar lived? This was not her place. Surrounded by earth and trees and so many creatures that stamped about on legs... it was not her home, it was not her destiny.

Who are you to feign knowledge of destiny?

The Svefra sighed, shaking her head and scattering the pile of thoughts so that she could see them as individuals, not an imposing tower. It was wrong of her to focus so intently upon what was wrong, what had yet to come. She had always wanted a life of adventure, had she not? So why did she fight against it now? This hardship was only temporary. Eventually, she would learn to adapt to it and to move on, to face another. Because, in essence, that was life: hardship. She just had to hope that the few beautiful moments gifted to her by Tanroa would be enough to brush away the stains of hardships.

Sighing gently, Edriena reached out to pull Razkar's bedroll closer once more, having shoved it away in her fit of irrationality. He could not know her troubles... When one soul struggled beneath a burden, it was wrong to force another to bear equal weight when they knew not of the cause. Until life started to steer her on a different course, she would struggle on in this one. It was not that there was no other option, but that none would be worth the pain of losing each moment she was able to spend at Razkar's side.

[Razkar]

He felt the lies, their deceptions, their act... they were like chains around him. Did parents feel like that? Watching those they loved so much stumble and fall... because they had to? Because only by rising again, by learning from her mistakes could she be more than what she was.

But Moretta was not making it easy. Her tone, her manner... something about it made Razkar's jaw clench and tighten constantly. Some undercurrent of disdain he simply couldn't place. Over and over Edreina tried her best, and the half-Drykas gave advice, seemed like she cared... but Razkar could tell it was all a facade.

She was insulting Edreina; his Edreina, with her sly words and he... he had to just swallow it.

The Myrian's face was stony and impassive, though, as he watched the scout quickly dismiss his "apprentice". She strolled quickly by him and he yearned to just pat her on the shoulder, grip her elbow, whisper something, anything-

But he didn't. He waited until her footsteps faded into the darkness behind him... and swung his black eyes to the smiling eyes but blank lips of Moretta. She had her hands crossed over her chest, chin jutted up a little as if in triumph.

"She has a ways to go."

"Don't we all?"

A "humph" that smacked of arrogance, not simple pride, grunted out of the female and a sneer turned up one corner of her lips. "Speak for yourself."

He could have roared or snarled or threatened, but he didn't. Razkar didn't like to do that more than once, and he'd already said his piece that day when Moretta's recklessness nearly cost the Valini Expedition all their scouts. Instead he took a couple of paces forwards... looming large and terrible in the darkness that freshly-shrouded them...

Something was missing. Something he recognized and part of him lusted for.

Fear. She was no afraid of him. In fact the rise of her small, pert breasts seemed only to increase when he got closer, almost like-

Razkar blinked, and by some miracle of self-control, or perhaps just the fact part of his mind shut down and took his facial muscles with it, kept his shock to himself.

"You were hard on her."

"That's something, coming from a Myrian."

"We are not in the Jungle."

"No, we're in the Wildlands," she shot back, like they were one and the same, and Razkar was in no mood to argue just how fast his homeland would slaughter this pale-skinned barbarian caravan like ants in a hurricane, "and she is your apprentice. You paid me to teach her, and I tried. She was taught much. Now she must apply it."

"There was more to it than teaching."

Now she blinked. Under the hot gaze of his obsidian stare her own facade seemed to crumble for a second time. She had learned before that the Myrian was no male like she had met before: more elemental, without the trappings of civilization that even her roaming, nomadic people had scraps of, Razkar would not quaver like her scouts under her lashing tongue.

He was not even slightly intimidated by her, and it had been a while since the sour sellsword had met a man who could honestly boast that. Her gaze twinkled darkly... and she stepped forward, too.

"Perhaps I saw one not worth... a master like you," she chose her words carefully, even pausing, hesitating, though not a twitch flickered on the dark face watching her, "I think she is weak. You deserve stronger."

"Such as you?"

A smile. Crafty and cruel despite its beauty, like a tiger before lunging, baring its teeth in victory as much challenge. She seemed to lean closer to him, heedless of whatever eyes were watching-

-until his hand against her chest stopped her like a brick wall.

"I only have time, or patience, or trust... for one... apprentice."

That feral hope died in her eyes and before she could voice it his hand... blurred. Fierce, territorial, but... cold, his gnosis flared and his strong fingers gripped around her shoulder.

Her wounded shoulder. Then he squeezed.

She winced, faltered as tentacles of pain oozed and spread throughout her body. But it was not a grasping exertion of strength to break her, drive her down to her knees. Those watching the two linked figures would assume it was a friendly squeeze of the shoulder... but the Myrian and Drykas knew different.

It was the certainty of strength; the promise of pain, should he so decide it. Razkar's lips quirked just minutely into a smile, fingers iron and implacable on her throbbing joint.

"I do not know what you think, but whatever it be, keep it to yourself, female. And do not take out your... disappointment, on Edreina." His hand loosened, then removed itself entirely, but the memory of it was still etched and aching on Moretta's flesh. "Good night."

Nothing more was said, and the mercenary commander made his way to his tent. Edreina had wisely left the lamp unlit in their tent; the last thing they wanted was a silhouette show for their to bodies together, for all the camp to see through the tent. She was curled up in a way much like a child in the womb, protecting itself against a hostile world.

Razkar's uncaring mask fell in that quiet, private place where only the two of them were seen and scrutinized, and only by each other. She listened as he unburdened himself of his weapons, his harness, but his clothes stayed on, of course... and his steel was never more than a quick grab away.

"Edri..."

Then she felt his warmth, his flesh and his security press against her from behind. The Svefra fancied for a moment there was some hardness against her rear, but... no. It was not the night for that, despite their days and nights of self-denial.

Razkar wrapped his arms around her from behind, sighing into her ear from a bare inch away, all the weariness of the day expelled in a breath. His words were bare, too. A mere whisper. Fragile, almost.

"You tried you best, Reina. You will try harder. You learned." A pause, as if he was marshaling his thoughts, and his arms pulled her closer to him, enfolding her into himself. "They say in my people, 'No best; only better'. You will get better. You started today..."

[Edreina]

A slim frame had its benefits. At that moment, it was knees that could come close to one's chest, holding in the pieces as Edriena felt herself cracking, on the verge of shattering as Razkar entered the tent. She wanted nothing more than to fall apart in the fortress of his arms, pour out all of the negative feelings so that she was left with only the joy of having him, the excitement of this adventure, and hope for what was yet to come. Instead, she held herself together.

The gentle sounds of his weapons being removed had become Edreina's lullaby as he was so practiced, so methodical... Did he hear the rhythm in his motions? The song in his metal? Surely he did. Her name left his lips like a final prayer before one abandoned himself to the realm of Nysel. She sighed at the sound, relaxing ever so slightly even as his body curled gently around hers. Other nights, she would have fought every urge to grind her body against his, to control the inferno that his presence ignited in the calm, quiet intimacy of their tent. But, on that night, Edreina sought only comfort and security.

His cheek rested on her head, lips at her ear... Oh how the sound of the one you loved breathing beside you could put one at ease. On the 'grotto, they had always woke in an odd place compared to where they had started the night. Here, they always woke in each other's arms, bodies pressed close as if their subconscious knew that upon Syna's first light, they would not be blessed with one another's touch again until night fell once again.

When he spoke, his voice was... odd. There was no other way to describe it. There was a quality to it she had heard only rarely. Again, he called her Reina. That first time, an instant before falling to the sting of an arrow, the name had been a surprise. Nearly always she was Edri... But finally, he was using the nickname she preferred, the one used by her parents, her siblings, and most within the pod. Always, something about the hard d sound in Edreina had been off putting to the Svefra whereas Reina simply flowed, sounding to her like a gentle sea breeze. Perhaps, one day, she would take that as her name, ask all of the new people she met to call her Reina.

Again, her mind was wandering when it should be resting. With a sigh, she turned in her lover's arms and tucked herself beneath his chin, hands coming up to rest beneath her head as her lips found a bed upon his throat. Tomorrow would be another day of trial and tribulation, challenging them each on their own.

But the night, it was theirs, and they faced it together.